The Second Fall of the Riders
by The Awesome Pen
Summary: Eragon deserves some peace of mind after the war, but as he sets out to find a place to recuperate the dragon race, he finds Aesdynia. A land that has recently descended into a full blown war with dragon riders in the midst of it, Eragon quickly discovers that the past is repeating itself, what will he do when his loyalty is once again being pulled at from different directions?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hello people, this is my first attempt at writing fan fiction. I hope you'll like it.**

**This story starts where "Inheritance" ended. This won't be your usual Eragon leaves Alagesia and rebuilds the riders, and then one day he returns home despite his prophecy and bla bla. Nope, this story will be original, and it will be darn good if I can help it. I'm not going to tell you any of the pairings, but I'll tell you now that Arya is out of the picture for now, she might show up later or in a sequel, but right now she's stuck in Alagesia. **

One journey ends, another begins

The bow of the "Talita" plunged through the roaring waves and each impact shook the swan like ship slightly. The storm had swallowed the ship two days ago, and it showed no sign of yielding. The elves fought the weather bravely, their lithe bodies somehow managed to keep some of their inborn grace through the howling winds and smothering rain.

Eragon sat with his legs crossed at the front of the ship, and the storm did naught to stir him. His eyes were closed and his breathing even, he had been sitting there quietly for several hours now. He was busy diving through the ocean with his mind; the magnitude of creatures beneath them was stirring with motion, almost like the storm above breathed life into the beings below. He would never have guessed the ocean was so filled with life, it was everywhere. Some things were impossible to be seen with the naked eye, while others were almost as big as the "Talita."

As the night continued on, his voyage under the sea became a test. He lost his concentration every now and then, but he denied his body any comforts and he quickly dove beneath the water again with his mind. He remembered sitting on a stump in the forest and seeing the life there though his mind, it had been awe-inspiring once he had opened his mind to the sheer amount of life that had been surrounding him. The ocean was equally filled with life, aquatic plants, water breathing animals and even someone who surfaced the water to breathe and then to dive down again.

At the stump in the forest a slight twitch of a twig would have brought him out of his focus. Now his body did not move as he was bombarded with ice cold water, the ship's hair thin bow cut through the waves instead of ramming into them. If the latter had been the case, Eragon would have found himself sprawled on the deck a lot more often. He became aware of Saphira diving through the water like a sea serpent; she had become obsessed with swimming recently. And she did not shy away from battling some of the larger and more dangerous creatures of the ocean.

His concentration broke again and he found himself on his back against the deck of the "Talita." He was utterly soaked with freezing water, he sighed and climbed to his feet, stretching his sore muscles as he did. This time he had lasted very long, and he nodded with contempt to himself before he turned and walked towards the ship cabin.

He nodded at the elves he passed and they greeted him in return, their respect clear in their stance.

He could feel more than see Saphira emerge from the rocking waves, snapping after game. Eragon only chuckled and entered his cabin; the others had their own, one deck below. His cabin was larger though, it was lit with a magical blue light that stood shining just below the ceiling. The white wooden walls reflected the light and gave it a beautiful blue and dim color. His room was tidy and completely dry thanks to the enchantments placed on the cabin, speaking of which, he was dripping wet.

He made to speak a few words of the ancient language that would dry him, but then he stopped himself. This was a good opportunity to practice some wordless magic, sure, he could end up frying himself, but he was intent on becoming good at the art. He took a deep breath and searched for the familiar oddity in his mind, the part where his magic was stored. It took him only a fraction of a second to locate it, but he waited a few seconds with unleashing the magic. He wanted to dry himself, to steam away the water without hurting him. He focused on that, and released the magic, it was odd to be dripping wet one moment, then completely dry the next.

Then, warm and dry, he made his way over to his desk. The only object in the room that was messy. Books, scrolls, parchment and quills covered the desk in a jumble, and there were a few unfortunate ink splatters here and there. He sat down and eyed his maps for the hundredth time. Not "his" maps in the understanding that they had been given to him, but in the sense that they were _his._ He had made them; there were no maps of the lands beyond Alagesia. The pure impracticality of that had been severe, and he decided that if he mapped the areas they discovered, then others would not need to struggle as much as he did now.

He had read a few books on the subject and had started with a sudden joy, a joy similar to the time when he had first begun writing. The days after they had left Hedarth - the memory sent a pang of sorrow through him – he had mapped the contours of the river, the bends in it and the mountains around, and good landmarks. He had one large scale map that he had tried making with the scale of Alagesia in mind, and several small scale maps.

It didn't take many days before they were on Open Ocean, leaving him with nothing but water to map, there were no landmarks to spot, no small islands, and no shipwrecks. He had searched the sea bottom many times. They had been on the ocean for a week and a half now, the surreal amount of distance they had traveled baffled him. _Is the world really this big? _And the curiosity in him grew. What would they find out there, past this storm and beyond the ocean?

He could only hope it would be enough, that they could raise the dragons there. He sighed and slumped a little more into his chair and drew a hand through his hair. A small mirror, fit to be held in a hand, lay on top of his bed. He used it to communicate with his friends in Alagesia, Nasuada had one, Roran and Katrina had one, Orik had a large mirror on the wall, whom he had connected his small one too, Arya had one very similar. He had not spoken with her since he had left though; an elf named Elrander always answered him. Eragon knew little about him, only that he and dathedr hailed from the same house.

The thought soured his mood, and he decided that sleep would be a good thing now, he ate a small meal consisting of dried fruits and biscuits, and then he bade Saphira a good night before he embraced his bed.

* * *

The next day he awoke with peculiar feeling of importance. A feeling that said that this day will not be like the others, something different was about to happen. He felt a tingling in his palm; and quickly arose from his bed and continued on with his morning ritual.

_Do you feel it Saphira? _She merely growled in agreement, he could feel her on the deck, carefully eyeing the horizon. Eragon shaved with magic and splashed some water in his face, and he put on a brown cotton shirt and pants. He only took an apple as breakfast before he ventured out to stand with his soul mate. He was not too surprised to see that the storm was completely gone, and had been replaced by an open pale blue sky with a rising, hot sun. They stood like that for a while, basking in the sun and each other's company.

It didn't take long however for him to notice that the color of the ocean was a bit off. He frowned and almost on instinct extended tendrils into the deep, but the ocean was not "deep." The water was shallow, they were in shallow waters. The realization made him laugh with delight. Curios, Saphira looked into his mind and discovered what he had discovered only moments ago. Her roar rattled his skull. The elves quickly flocked them, some looked out past the water for threats.

"Look friends, we're in shallow waters, and land can't be far ahead." He told them. They reacted with cheers and laughs, wine and food was quickly brought about and the air was filled with beautiful voices and flutes. Later during the day one of the female elves - Alanah - shouted: "Shadeslayer! Brightscales! There is something on the horizon."

He approached her and followed her finger with his eyes. It was miniscule, but still there, on the starboard side of their ship there was a small speck on the horizon. He heard gasps around him as they reached out with their minds, he did the same. It was on the border of how far he could extend his mind, but he made it. What they had just seen as a small dot above the water was in reality an old ship mast, and beneath it was a ship. It was old and ravaged by water, but still there.

He returned to himself and took a steadying breath, and then he turned to the others who seemed to have already grasped the meaning of what they had discovered. He gave Alanah a quick smile, "you have good eyes." She returned his smile and dipped her head.

"If there are shipwrecks this far away from Alagesia, then it is almost safe for us to say that they probably did not _come _from Alagesia." His words wrapped around them like a blanket, silence followed.

"We have passed a certain point, I'm not sure what will happen now, but we'll soon find out."

"We will stand by you, Shadeslayer." Blodghärm said, his feline teeth sparkling in the early midday's sun. Eragon gave him a grin himself and clutched his shoulder. "I know you will."

_I am feeling restless, I will scout ahead. _Saphira told them stoically, she shifted her legs, and the whole boat cringed. _Let me join on this one. _He told her, he was as eager as her. He debated on bringing _Brisngr _with him, but decided not to. If they found danger he had his magic and an overgrown, fire breathing lizard to protect him. He checked Aren, the ring he had who once had belonged Brom, it had substantial amounts of energy. And then there was the heart of hearts that always were close with him, hidden and crammed down into a tiny pin-point prick located just on the inside of his vision. He leapt up on saphira's back and into her leather saddle and she took off from deck, making the entire ship sway from the pure pressure.

She quickly gained height, and soon the "Talita" was nothing more than a small bug down there, but more importantly. The "Talita" was slowly approaching what could only be a giant landmass. From where they were Eragon and Saphira could only see the beginning of it, but the shores stretched far and wide. He found himself grinning goofily as Saphira shouted her triumph to the world. The elves below gently prodded his mind, curios. He merely let them see what he saw.

Saphira began to speed ahead, he noticed his companions worry.

_We will be careful. _He told Blodghärm, who gave him a mental nod and conveyed his message to the others on the "Talita."

Eragon was surprised at how fast Saphira managed to close the distance, he watched as the "Talita" became smaller and smaller. They did however have the wind in their favor, the boat would be able to get to shore by nightfall, he was certain. Saphira chased the strand with rigorous determination; he saw her yearning, her desire to hunt for new and exciting prey.

When she landed he laughed and quickly jumped down to his feet. _Sand. I'm standing on sand._ He bent down and grasped two handfuls of yellow-brownish sand, he grinded it against his fingers and watched it pour back to the ground, and he laughed again. Saphira too hummed as she rolled around in the sand.

_Let's hope, _Saphira said._ That we never have to take such a long and boring journey again._

He smiled and had to agree with her, it was only then that he began to study his surroundings. The pale blue water that hit the rocky and sandy shore was beautiful. He thought he could make out the distant figure of the "Talita." But he couldn't be sure. The beach lost its grip fifty paces inland, where a shrubby forest took over, it didn't look like the storm had passed through here; everything was dry and still attached to the ground. A bit farther in he could see a mountain chain that stretched up and down on both sides of the coast, in a way it reminded him of the spine. The nostalgia hit him hard.

He shoved those thoughts away and extended his mind; he spread out his senses and became aware of everything around him, the knobby trees, rodents, mammals and reptilians. Many of them he studied were similar or almost identical to things he had seen in Alagesia, while some things simply left him bewildered.

He noticed however, that something big was coming their way, something flying. He frowned and opened his eyes, _Saphira, something is coming._

Saphira had been very busy sniffing at things in the bushes, but once his words brushed against her mind she instantly became rigid and watchful. She silently walked over to him and took up a protective stance. _Be nice. _He told her, and she growled back. He didn't get to theorize a lot on what the being could be, it became too obvious that it was a dragon pretty quickly. That did nothing to calm Saphira down; deep and threatening sounds emerged in her chest as she eyed the dragon.

_Are you inviting a brawl here Saphira? Act politely and keep your wits about you. _He told her quietly, not taking his eyes of the dragon. He thought he could see a rider on its back. That made him confused,_ what in the world is going on here? _A dragon and a rider so far away from Alagesia? The mere notion made him dizzy, the dragon race might have never been in danger at all then. Something he had believed all his life.

_Stay away from troubling questions now Eragon, I sense those two have no good intent in mind. _Saphira told him, he shook his head, Saphira was right of course. He settled his questions behind bars for now, and focused on the possible danger. He and Saphira did not reach out with their mind in fear that they might insult or make a bad impression on the rider and dragon, but he kept his mind open in a way that said he was open for conversation.

The rider and dragon did not attempt to talk to them, but they landed in the sand maybe ten paces away from them. Eragon and Saphira were quiet and still as the other rider climbed down from his pale yellow dragon. Neither of them managed to not to stare at the dragon though, its yellow scales was heavily complimented by the rays of the sun, and the dragon seemed to match the sand very well. Its yellow eyes regarded them with surprisingly much hatred, the dragon was larger than Saphira, and Eragon estimated it was perhaps five years older than her.

The rider wore a fine steel armor with a matching helmet; the gear appeared to be unused and well-polished, it was equipment for war. Saphira shifted when he drew a steel long sword, he could tell she wanted to snarl at him for being so openly challenging. It didn't escape Eragon that the man didn't have a rider's sword.

The man said something in a foreign language; his tone was icily as he approached Eragon with sword in hand. Eragon, wary, held up his hands and said in the ancient language: "Please friend, I do not understand your tongue, and I am not your en-" More was impossible to say, because the hostile rider had not been inclined to listen. Eragon took two quick steps back and avoided the sweeping blade; Saphira growled and nearly attacked him on the spot. The rider ignored her and slashed his sword down at him; Eragon grabbed the hilt of the sword in his left hand and shoved his right palm hard against the other man's plate protected chest. He staggered and fell.

He tried again at diplomacy: "Listen! I do not wi-"

"Garjzla!" Light exploded out of the man's right hand and skidded harmlessly off of his wards. He felt himself grow irritated with this rider; the eldunari linked to his mind was more or less furious. An attack on him was an attack on them.

Eragon quickly checked his wards and found them in top condition, the sheer magnitude of wards on him made it take a moment to go through, and another one to check Saphira's. He was left satisfied, and even managed to turn and sidestep the rider's next attack without much strain. The rider cried out and cut and whacked after him. All attempts were futile, with his elven speed it was not exactly a fair match.

_Maybe I should incapacitate him, or knock him out?_

_Might as well. _Saphira hummed in answer, she was amused, he could tell. She turned to the yellow dragon and bared her lips over her curved teeth's in a wolf like manner, she was _gloating. _The yellow dragon snarled threateningly.

Eragon sighed; he dodged another blow, and as the rider raised it again to cleave down at him, Eragon attacked with a serpents speed. His fist connected with the rider's plated abdomen. However, Eragon's wards protected his hand from breaking at the impact; the other rider evidently had no wards to protect himself from a clenched hand. What kind of dragon rider was this anyway?

Air wheezed out of the man, and he slumped to his knees. The yellow dragon didn't hesitate, a small amount of fear leached into Eragon as he saw the large dragon flung itself at him – only to be intercepted by an equally terrifying Saphira. She smashed into the other dragon and immediately got the upper hand by ambushing the other dragons flank. Claw met tooth and fire met wards as the two roaring dragons dueled each other.

Eragon watched them for only a moment, then he turned his attention back at the rider who was gasping for air, his plate had a fist sized bulk in the abdominal area. His limp fingers tried to get a grip on his weapon; he had apparently dropped the sword in the sand. Eragon bent down and picked up the blade with nimble fingers. It was then he heard the powerful _whoosh _sound of a large dragon flapping its wings, not just one pair of wings, but several.

"Kveykva!" The man rasped out and held up his glowing right hand. For the second time his wards stopped a spell that day, one that would probably have broken a good part of the bones in his body, he barely noticed the energy drain it had on the belt of Beloth the Wise. He could immediately see the man had done a mistake though, his breathing turned frantic and he slumped to the ground, his dragon whelped, a heart wrenching sound that he hoped he would never hear from Saphira.

Saphira let the dragon wriggle itself out of her grip and to limp over to its rider, snarling at Eragon as it did so. Eragon backed off and gave them space; dragons craved a lot of space. He became aware that the other dragons and riders were about to land, and then both he and Saphira were attacked. He had been waiting for it, but the sheer amount of ramming into his walls nearly broke his resolve the first few seconds. His jaw tensed and he felt himself grow angry, _who are these people to attack us in this way!_ He had battled a shade with his mind and had held it off blast it! He would not let this squabble of riders and dragons tear open his head.

The eldunari was in uproar, he could hear them reach out to him, offering him help to defend his mind, but no, he thought. He couldn't reveal to these people just what kind of power he had, they might not know what an eldunari was, but he was certain that their leaders knew, and they could figure out much when they were told of what happened here today, and they would be told. Eragon had every intention on not killing anyone.

With that thought in mind he took a deep breath and gathered his efforts, and pushed them out with sheer force of will, and then he created a wall with a dwarfish poem. His dwarfish was bad, that made him focus when wording the words, which was all the better. They rammed at his wall, but they could not break in. He threw a quick look at Saphira and saw that she was fighting them just as fiercely. Her eyes were slits, and her body was coiled, ready to snap at anything.

It was a rope pulling contest, he couldn't win, but he could hold on and wait for them to quit. So he mentally dug his heels into the ground and positioned himself with one of his feet behind a rock and held on for dear life. No one got in, but Eragon could see a figure move towards him in his peripheral vision. He gritted his teeth, and lost some of his focus. A change of tactics was needed; he would have to be able to defend himself and Saphira physically and mentally at the same time. For a fleeting moment he considered the possibilities, and then he made his choice. He raised the sword he had only moments ago taken from the yellow rider and walked towards this new threat. His mind was still being attacked, but only by two minds now, his walls shook, but held.

He assessed his opponent with a quick look then he attacked. From the quick glance he took he realized that this was no man, but an elf, and he was only clothed in a thick, brown leather jerkin and held a thin curved sword in his right hand.

Eragon focused his eyes only on the blade of his enemy; he took a moment to build up his walls with this new defense. Then he gritted his teeth and struck at the elf in quick recession. The duel almost ended then and there, the elf was so surprised he had managed to walk with his mind being battered, much less fight. Eragon did not notice his opponents evident surprise, his eyes were glued to his enemy's sword and nothing would steal that attention.

That was what his attackers saw each time they rammed his walls, the sharp and gleaming sword of their own ally. Other things didn't trouble Eragon as he attacked again and again, he barely noticed he gained ground; all he saw was that sword. How it moved, its patterns and methods, the way it blinked in the rays of the sun. Eragon's moves were purely reflexive, his attacks and stances were built up from habit and experience, and he gave no conscious thought as he flew from one attack to the other.

Then suddenly the elf threw his sword to the ground and began chanting. Eragon's walls fell to dust at once, but no one took the advantage. Relieved, his eyes scoured the beach for only a second. Saphira was engaged with two other dragons, one of them an azure blue and large, the other one a straw yellow who was equal to Saphira in size. He could not tell how the battle went for her, but his wards on her held. Another human, this one huge and bulky with muscles under his gleaming plate armor, was rapidly closing the distance to him. And to his despair another dragon and a female human rider was kneeling next to the man he had earlier pummeled in the gut. She rose, from his side and lifted her silver palm at him, muttering words of the ancient language.

The fact that she was willing to end this battle here and now by magic baffled him; one simply did not do that. It was suicidal; it gave him the opportunity to finish her too, if he wanted that. Maybe she was simply confident that one of them would get him, be it sword or spell. He turned towards the elf again, and saw that he was done chanting. _Blast it! _

Then his body was locked down, held down by incredibly strong and invisible hands that forced him to his knees. He could see the bulky and strong looking man on the outskirts of his vision, he heaved a broad sword. Somewhere he could hear Saphira roar in defiance. Her roar made him aware that death might be coming for him, it made him laugh, a highly maniacal laugh. If they thought he was just going to sit here and take it, then they were terribly wrong. He had the responsibilities of hundreds of eldunari and dragon eggs upon his shoulders. Dying here was simply not going to happen.

He reached into the crooks and crevasses of his mind and found the magic in him, and then he said in the ancient language. "Break the bonds."

There was a snapping sound, and the pressure on him disappeared, the elf staggered backwards. Odd, the elf had not even tried to fight him back, maybe he had been caught off guard again, but Eragon didn't hesitate for a second. He tightened his hand around the hilt of the long sword he had stolen, and brought it up with him in an upwards curve that met the heavy man's broad sword in a shower of sparks. The powerful blow nearly toppled the burly man over. It gave Eragon time to notice the fiery wrath that was close upon him.

Instead of putting it out or creating shields or wards to block it, he took control of it. "Brisingr," he muttered. The flames that had originally been purple now turned sapphire blue. He could easily now turn the fire against the girl who had summoned it, but he didn't wish to harm anyone so he merely cut of the spell. The female maybe fifty feet away from him looked stunned. He turned again and said calmly: "Trysta vindr."

The large man was blasted of his feet by a stormy ball of air; he landed a bit to the left of a fight between furious snarling dragons. The armor took up most of the impact, but the man had definitely felt it, Eragon knew from experience. The elf had now gotten back on his feet and he had reclaimed his sword, he charged Eragon with an almost desperate battle cry.

"Letta!" Eragon shouted, he had not meant to infuse the word with magic, but it happened none the less. The elf suddenly stopped, in mid leap with sword raised and his face set in determination. His eyes widened as he realized what Eragon had done. The toll of the spells had now left him worn down, he could have taken some energy from Aren or from Brisingr, but this way was better. He did not want them to think him invincible.

"Can everybody just calm down!" He shouted loudly in the ancient language. Saphira growled and kicked with her powerful hind legs at the larger azure dragon, it created some space between them. And Saphira used it to stalk over to Eragon's side; the other dragon did not try to follow. Eragon could see the dull yellow one by the side of the muscular human, licking its own wounds. The energy in him lessened by the second and he realized that he still held the elf in midair, he released him, and the elf landed with knees bent.

"We are not your enemy!" He shouted in the language that could tell no lies. He could tell they were communicating with each other through their minds, their faces revealed it. He took advantage of the silence to say a few more words. "I and my soul mate come from the land of Alagesia. We have traveled a long way, and our friends will be here soon with our ship." His magic had taken a big chunk of him though, and the words came between big puffs of air. Then his heart rejoiced when he could clearly see the "Talita" on the horizon.

"Look! There they are." He smiled and pointed, heads quickly whipped around to see. The elf shifted his legs and stepped a little closer to him and Saphira, he was beautiful, like most elves, slanted eyes, narrow face, and waist long silver hair. The large azure dragon moved to his side. The elf spoke the ancient language with perfect pronunciation.

"And who are you dragon rider?" Eragon smiled; glad to have finally broken through all the hostility.

"You may call me Eragon. And the proud dragoness at my side is Saphira."

The elf's slanted eyes glided over Saphira, he dipped his head at her, and she dipped hers in return. "You fight like possessed, Eragon and Saphira."

He couldn't help but to grin, there was a heavy clanking sound and a big purple dragon clad in armor fashioned for a dragon rumbled towards them. It glittered and sparkled in the bright afternoon sun, it brought back images of war with Saphira in a very similar piece. The girl who had attacked him with the fire spell sat astride the great dragon. He had to kick himself mentally, her dragon was large, and he guessed the girl had to be forty or fifty years old. No girl exactly then, although she looked like a woman who had just stepped into maturity.

Unlike her dragon she had no armor, only clothed in brown leather, much like the elf. She was pretty, a heart shaped face, and black strands of hair fell in her eyes, which were nut colored. Her slightly pointed ears revealed her as a dragon rider, not just a mere human spell caster. Her eyes met his, and he could see the uncertainty in her, uncertainty and fear.

Eragon took a quick gulp of air and let his eyes sweep over all four riders and dragons, so they understood that he spoke to all of them.

"I and Saphira have no conflict with you, and you need not fear us." A puff of smoke from Saphira cemented his words. The woman and the elf met each other's eyes and he could practically see the conversation they conveyed with each other.

"Why all the armament?" Eragon asked and gestured at the armored dragon, and the men with plate mail. The elf turned to him and licked his lips, "because," he said slowly. "We are at war."

The reply made him blink, but in a way it made sense. _That explains all the hostility then. _Saphira said.

"And you thought we were your enemy?" He guessed. The elf nodded with sad eyes.

"You have chosen a bad time to come to Aesdynia, Eragon and Saphira."

**A/N And that's the intro, I'm not a natural English speaker, so there will probably be some mistakes here and there in the text, bear with me. You could report some of them if you bother, or maybe you know a beta? I'll update this story each weekend, so new chapters each Friday/Saturday.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Hey again, chapter two up, and I've got a few replies back to some reviews.**

**Elemental Dragon Slayer: Yes, there will be some dialogue, and that will be an obstacle for Eragon to overcome.**

**Menaphite: Thank you for pointing that out, I had completely forgotten that. Now it's corrected.**

**To all the other people who simply reviewed and complimented my story, Thank You! It motivates me. Now, I command you to read!**

Echoes of the past

The "Talita" did indeed reach the shores of Aesdynia by nightfall, as Eragon had estimated. Blodghärm and his companions had then quickly pushed the ship - using both brawns and magic – up the beach, it now stood a good ten paces from the closest waves. It wasn't going anywhere. They all eyed the silver haired elf with wary eyes as they made up a bonfire. Eragon's attackers had left shortly after they had sorted out their misunderstanding, only the elf had remained.

When the "Talita" came within the range of his mind he had simply told Blodghärm there had been a fight, a misunderstanding that had been sorted out. Blodghärm pressed for details, Eragon had excused himself and answered: _I'll tell you tonight._

"What are you exactly; I have never seen one such as you. First I thought you an elf, but that's not all there is to you. You have some human qualities about you as well, and none of your companions look like you so I doubt it's an Alagesian trait." The silver haired elf, Feramus was the one who spoke.

The air grew cold as the foreign elf spoke; Eragon had by then realized that Feramus did not value politeness as much as the Alagesian elves did. It wouldn't surprise him if all the elves of Aesdynia were like him; they had a different culture here. For the elves of Du Welden Varden the question had been highly improper, especially given who Eragon was. Eragon tried to shake off the uneasiness the question brought him.

"I was born a human, but events have . . . changed me." He said, not revealing much.

"I see . . ." was all Feramus replied. Then food was brought about and they all encircled the fire, the azure dragon Kelmor and Saphira took up a lot of the space. The elves took their seats on logs and stones, some few just sat in the sand. They all took their share of what poor substitute of food there was.

A journey by ship meant that you needed durable food. Not especially delicious food. He had already mentioned for Feramus that elves from Alagesia did not eat meat, a thing that had seemed to bewilder him. And what's more, he had never seen apples; they did not grow anywhere in Aesdynia he said. But after tasting them, he said he wished they did.

When Bellies had been filled and throats had been sated, one of the elves asked Eragon: "Shadeslayer, we are curious, what happened here earlier today?" Eragon stiffened a bit.

Feramus looked at him with large eyes, and then he laughed. All around the campfire elves shifted themselves around in discomfort, he could tell they were unsure whether Feramus was insulting him or not.

"Well then! A Shadeslayer, no wonder me and my friends got thrashed, there is no shame in being shown up by a slayer of shades though!" He shouted out merrily. Saphira laughed in a most dragon like manner, _your plan on not appearing powerful is going awfully well. _He ignored her.

"There were more than you then?" A voice sounded to the left of Eragon somewhere, he thought it belonged to Fingön.

"Yes, I believe we outnumbered them two to eight." Feramus replied just as happily. That was overly boasting of him, the yellow rider and dragon had already been out of the dance when the others came. And it had occupied the purple rider and dragon; she had healed them during the ruckus.

The elves around the campfire nodded and smiled, like they could envision how it had happened. Blodghärm gave him a meaningful glance and Eragon shook his head.

_I never used the eldunari's, they know nothing of them._ He told him, Blodghärm nodded. Feramus looked around the campfire with shocked eyes.

"Are you not impressed with your rider? That is an incredibly good tally, mind you!" Some of the elves chuckled, and then someone said:

"The Shadeslayer . . . is very powerful."

Eragon shook his head in disbelief, what was the point in not using the eldunari when his friends so obviously suggested that there might be more to him than meets the eye? His eyes met Blodghärm's feral yellow ones again for a moment. He could tell Blodghärm was giving the others instructions; a few noticeably changed their demeanor.

"Powerful, yes I noticed that. Are all riders and dragons trained as you and Saphira are?" Feramus eyed him intently now. Eragon swallowed hard, his and Saphira's training in Alagesia had consisted mostly of staying alive, and their tutelage under Oromis and Glaedr had been short. There were no riders or dragons being trained in Alagesia now. But what could he say? That there were _no _trained riders in Alagesia. That would lead to other questions, why not? What happened? Why did you leave? Which brought him back to the Eldunari and the dragon eggs. It was better to keep silent.

"Things have not been very good in Alagesia lately . . . I'm not inclined to say very much more." Eragon's voice was firm, but not unfriendly. Then he added some words, "I apologize for the secrecy friend. It is not in my nature to hold things shrouded from others, but in this I have to."

There was a short silence, and then Feramus said: "I shall not intrude on your business, it is only right to keep a few secrets, do not feel guilty friend. But you still fight like a true rider; we could use someone like you and Saphira."

Eragon smiled. "I'm sure you could, but me and my friends have our own calling, and to be honest, I doubt we will find our answer here."

"What makes you say that?" Feramus asked him solemnly.

"You said you were at war, did you not?" Eragon asked him, and he could almost feel the tension that filled the air. Feramus's expression turned grave, and for a long time there was no answer. And when one finally came, it was from the dragon, Kelmor.

_Yes, Shadeslayer. We are at war, and we have been for three months now. _He had opened his mind, so that everyone heard his words. Feramus spat at the sand, it surprised Eragon. He had never seen an elf spit before.

"Lies, that's lies and you know it. This war started the day Arminas lost his darn Lead Rider title, and _that_ is three years ago now." Eragon was a bit taken aback by the sudden venomous tone.

"What happened?" He asked, and he could see that Feramus and Kelmor exchanged words.

"I, err, it doesn't matter . . . we are fighting – and losing. Arminas's army and riders alike began their siege on Ashta yesterday, the silver gate has never fallen before, but the traitors are strong, unlike any other strength I've ever seen. The gate will fall, it is inevitable."

Eragon stirred uncomfortably at the word "traitors," _do you think the same thing that happened with the order in Alagesia happens now, only here? _Saphira's question forced him to really consider it, consider what he had been suspecting all night. He didn't like his conclusion.

_It might be._

Kelmor rose from the sand and stretched, he drew admiring gazes from the elves and some of them praised his beautiful scales. He felt a flash of envy from Saphira, who was used to that kind of flattering for her only. Feramus eyed his soul mate sadly.

"I must return to Lakten, Eragon. I will tell the order you and your friends are of no threat to us. I recommend you to leave soon though; Aesdynia is not a safe place any longer, especially to riders." He stood and walked with gracious steps to his soul mate.

"Where is this, Lakten?" Eragon asked him.

Feramus mounted the great dragon and pointed with a finger at the mountain range Eragon had earlier been nostalgic about. "It is merely past those two hills, once past them the city will be stretched out in front of your eyes, impossible to miss. A day's walk at the most, I'll make certain you will be welcome there."

Eragon nodded thoughtfully and bade them goodbye, saying he would think about it. His decision was already made though. After Feramus and Kelmor had left, the elves resorted to discussion. Their voices never became loud or angry, cool and collected arguments were instead launched back and forth. They went through the conversation and all that had been revealed, or more importantly, what had not been revealed.

Eragon sat silently and mulled his thoughts over with Saphira, they didn't directly talk. Instead they molded together and his thoughts became hers and hers became his, for a time they were one being, going through a day that had two points of view. The experience was highly enlightening.

"Eragon? Shadeslayer?"

Voices brought him back to himself, but he still clutched to his tight connection with Saphira, she answered in kind.

"Hmm, what?" He asked and looked up and saw that he was again in the center of attention.

"We wondered on what you planned on doing now, Shadeslayer."

He drew a hand over his chin, and let out a breath. "I and Saphira thought it over, and have come to the conclusion that we need to visit this city, Lakten. We are at a beach in a land we do not know, we need to ask for advice in which direction would be the best to go, and they are bound to have some nautical maps there, I'm sure. Maybe we could resupply too."

Sounds of agreement were heard, and when he swept his eyes over them he saw Alanah made to speak.

"A good course of action Shadeslayer." She said, her voice was angelic. "Excuse me for asking, but how much of your power did you reveal? Lakten can be a dangerous place, all the more so when the riders you faced today will tell their superiors of what they saw, they again might piece things out if they have the right knowledge."

Eragon nodded at her reasoning, "a valid concern. But those riders won't have much to tell, other than that they faced a skilled foe."

Alanah quirked a pair of dark eyebrows at him. "You . . . bested them without the aid of the eldunari then?"

"Aye, did you think that above our abilities?" He asked smilingly, and Saphira craned her head around the crowd and puffed some smoke at Alanah. She coughed and flapped with her arms to clean the air, but when everyone laughed she couldn't help but to smile despite herself.

He rose from the tree stump he had used as a chair and stretched in the evening air. _Look at you, drawing the stares of the females again. _Eragon stopped and blinked, _do I now? _Saphira snorted. _Clueless like ever. _He resisted the urge to look around him to see if Saphira was joking or not, instead he said: "If there is nothing else then I'll retire to my cabin now, we'll leave at noon tomorrow." When no one spoke up he retired to his ship cabin.

Eragon didn't go to sleep at once; he first tried to contact Nasuada with his custom made mirror, despite the late hour. No one answered him on the other end, she might have been asleep. It was probably for the best anyway, he assumed he would have a more satisfying and complete story in a few days.

* * *

Eragon couldn't decide if Lakten really was a city, or just an overly big town. Naturally, coming from Alagesia gave him a different opinion on what was, and what was not, a city. But to him Lakten were lacking in the term of _size_ to be a proper city. It was nice enough he supposed, the late evening light complimented the dark wooden structures that dominated here. There were buildings made out of all kinds of types of trees, he couldn't even identify all the sorts.

Situated in a downhill slope, the city had a good natural defendable position, should the city ever be marched upon their attackers would be hard pressed to gain ground. The difference did not only lay in battle stance, but also the fashion the way the houses of the city could be used to give archers easy pickings. In a way it was a lot like the city of Teirm, but Teirm had done it intentionally, Lakten seemed to be just lucky situated.

Bountiful lush forests surrounded the city on all fronts, and a shallow river ran down the mountainside and passed the houses on the right. Mills, docks and small rafts dotted the blue water. Once past the city's rickety wooden gates Eragon opened his mind to the city, and was amused as every spell caster in his proximity retreated behind the walls of their minds. He would know if anyone with a dark intent approached them, the elves said nothing, didn't even glance his way.

They had fallen back into the old pattern Eragon had been so used to during the war in Alagesia. They surrounded him on all sides with Saphira forming the rear troop. They didn't speak or show emotions, they were once again his bodyguards. Together they must have made an impressive sight of unity and discipline, and those few who were outside shied away from them, making conversation with the people of Lakten fairly difficult.

Not that he _could_ talk to anyone anyway; the local language was an oddity to him. It resembled that of the elves in the way their words flowed from their mouths, and yet, sometimes it took on the similarity of the human language of Alagesia; with brusque words and sentences ending on a high pitch. That might turn into a problem later; he had to get a translator to get understood here.

It turned out they didn't have to look around long for the authority. The only building in the city that was made out of stone was near the top of the hill, looking out on all the people from its high perch. It couldn't be more obvious.

When they arrived by the stone fortress they were halted by a pair of royal guards clad in colorful armaments and armed with spears and shields. The one to the right made a few brisk sounds in that alien language, he seemed to be talking to Eragon. Who naturally understood nothing; he tried talking to them in the ancient language, and the common human language of Alagesia. The guards only looked at him in confusion, and then they started bickering amongst themselves. He could tell in the way they raised their voices and how their stances changed from casual to tense.

Eragon could feel the rider's presence before she spoke, and when she spoke the two guards straightened and shut their mouths immediately. The female he had faced yesterday came up the hill. She wore a white dyed tunic with gold embroidery in the fine cloth and her dark hair was set up in a messy bun that highlighted her slightly pointy ears. Her voice was calm and authoritative as she spoke to the guards. They nodded and stepped to the side, offering entrance.

Eragon smiled and bowed for her, "thank you for your aid. It is most appreciated." She smiled friendly and nodded at him, but her eyes were guarded. When she spoke again, she spoke in the ancient language.

"Your dragon cannot accompany you into the keep, but Lakten has a small dragon hold. She can stay there, if you like."

_Where is this dragon hold? _Saphira asked her directly. _Are you sure that's what you want? _Eragon asked her, she puffed some smoke, and he wisely stayed silent.

"Fly in that direction, the ledges are hard to miss." She answered out loud and pointed further up the hill. Saphira dipped her large head and looked after a place to spread her wings. As on cue, the woman said: "Over there." And nodded to a muddy and torn up circle of dirt on the right side of the keep, ten paces wide across. Saphira waggled over. _Don't poke your nose in things you can't get it out of, _were her departing words to him.

"Shall we then, Shadeslayer?" Her mention of his title surprised him, but he followed her when she walked past the guards, who were motionless. He was a bit surprised they were allowed to carry their weapons with them, but he didn't complain. His hand fingered the hilt of Brisngr; glad to have the blade with him today.

"You have been talking to Feramus then." He said. His voice reverberated against stone walls. Every sound was amplified, yet he barely heard the nimble and gracious steps of the elves behind him. Loud noises and shouts were heard ahead of them, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

"I have." She confirmed, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Well if you know my name, then I think it's only fair that I get to know yours." He said.

"Valeria."

Further ahead the turbulent sounds only got louder, and when they passed a corner it turned out the keep had a courtyard. The ground was covered in a sickly yellow brownish grass after being stomped to death by too many feet. Elves and humans alike trained side by side, either pounding dummies, dueling, or performing magic. A few archery targets were placed at the top right corner of the yard, and weapon caches were at the top left corner.

It would have been a luxurious training platform for soldiers, but this was not soldiers, these people were dragon riders. The sight troubled him deeply, for a moment he couldn't believe that they had their future generation being trained up as if they were foot soldiers, there were not even a dragon in sight. Then it struck him that they might not have much of a choice, if the war Feramus had been talking about was as serious as it sounded, then maybe this was the result.

"The war must be bad . . . you have my sympathies."

"We need more than your sympathies, Shadeslayer." Was her curt reply.

They continued past the courtyard without stopping, they turned right and walked past burning torches and up a wide stone stair. The steps were an inch deeper where he put his feet, seemingly from what had to be centuries of use. _This place is old. _

_So is this dragon hold. _Saphira said through their connection. He got an image of a dimly lit and large cave, gigantic pillows were strewn everywhere, and some of them were occupied by dragons in dazzling colors. Saphira was overjoyed, pulling other dragons tails and otherwise creating mischief.

The second story had slits in the wall, not built for warfare in mind, but to simply view the courtyard. Valeria stopped and gesticulated to their right. "Lord Darion's court is down there, it is too late to arrange a meeting now however. There are compartments down to the left where the city's guests can reside, during the past months it has in a way become the unofficial sleeping quarters of us riders. I can show you a room, but I don't know if there is sufficient space for your guards."

"Please do," was all Eragon said. They were directed past a great number of old wooden doors, the torches cast dim reflections across the dark stone wall. They met another much narrower stair and ascended it, and walked down an identical hallway, just one story above the other. Valeria stopped at the far end and whispered a few words, the door nearest her creaked and opened.

It didn't look like there had been a maid in the room in a long time, an old dusty carpet covered the cold stone, a moldy desk stood in the right corner and a rickety wardrobe stood to the left. A ceiling lamp infested with spider webs hung over a bed that looked positively crawling with lice. Eragon wrinkled his nose, the smell was particularly foul. Valeria blinked, she made to speak, but Eragon waved his hand at her. With a few brisk words he had memorized from Oromis's many scrolls, he created a few simple spells.

The entire cover of dust simply disappeared, the bed mattress was lifted up in the air and banged repeatedly by invisible hands, the cobwebs disintegrated, and the furniture suddenly looked clean and newly polished. With a finishing touch, he lit the lamp and illuminated the room. Satisfied with his work, he turned to Valeria and asked her politely:

"To whom should I speak with to acquire rooms for my friends as well?"

She glanced at his now shining room, shrugged, and said: "Ask the steward in the morning, I'm sure he will help them."

"Shadeslayer, it is of no concern, we will find an inn somewhere where we can relieve ourselves for now." Blodghärm spoke, his blue fur had an odd glow in the flickering light of the torches.

"Very well, then you'd better get going, before they close for the night." He told them, Blodghärm nodded and left with the others the way they came. An elf, Finuvriél, stayed by his side, and he would probably be standing outside his door throughout most of the night too. Eragon noticed that Valeria was still in his doorway, leaning her shoulder on the frame and eyeing him. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. When she did speak her tone was bitter.

"Are you to leave as soon as your business is concluded?"

Eragon felt a chill move down his spine, and a poisonous guilt manifested in his stomach. "I-I, wish I could help you in your struggle, but we are on a quest of utmost importance." He told her quietly, the look he gave her was pained. He could see her jaw tense, and then she nodded and left him standing there. He instantly took comfort in Saphira's mind.  
That night he dreamt of large battles that took place in the sky, but he and Saphira was helplessly watching them fight from the ground.

* * *

He jerked out of his sleep sometime during the morning, and he couldn't find his rest again. He touched Saphira's mind, and saw that she was snoring peacefully, so he climbed out of bed and made himself presentable. After strapping Brisingr to his hip he left the room, the weight of his blade made him feel somewhat more comfortable. He walked down the hallway, now with a new shift of his elven guardians at his heel. He was hungry, so the first thing he did was to look for the kitchen.

He never found it, but the dining hall was in the lower levels of the keep, it was a large stone hall beneath the courtyard. The cavernous room was lit by large chandeliers filled with gleaming candles, the place smelled oddly of old cheese. At the moment there were a few people sitting at the benches and tables that were placed around, eating and drinking.  
Eragon helped himself to a portion from the wooden table in the middle of the hall, feeling oddly self-conscious as he did. He sat down at a table for himself and shoved some of the foreign food into his mouth. It was . . . interesting, he told himself and swallowed.

"Hello to you Shadeslayer!" A voice thrummed above all the small and foreign talk. Feramus moved to him and sat down at the opposite side of the table. Eragon ignored the whispering that traveled through the hall.

Eragon smiled and said. "Astra eterni ono thelduín."

Feramus raised a white brow at him and said. "I take it that is an Alagesian greeting? Very beautiful, very poetic." Eragon smiled wider. "It is an old traditional line."

"Ahh, traditions. They define us all, I'm glad that you took the trip to Lakten, Eragon. Some people here need to be reminded of their traditions." Feramus said and his eyes glanced over the hall in a distasteful manner, before he began eating the gruel in his bowl.

"This place used to have better food than this-" Feramus held up his spoon and watched as the sticky stuff clung to it, before it dropped and splattered down into his bowl again. "But people are more concerned with whom they trade with nowadays. It's no secret that Lakten supports Amrod and the old order, so many of the neutral towns avoid getting mixed up with Lakten." As he spoke, his expression turned dark and ominous, and he seemed to forget about the food altogether.

"You seem distracted." Eragon noted, "Something happened?"

Feramus stiffened and studied him with inscrutable eyes. "Yes. Something has happened." He finally said. Frowning, Eragon bent closer over the table, Feramus inched closer himself and spoke with a hushed and intense voice.

"The council gave us news this night, I and a few other riders were summoned by Krassos this morning. It . . . we . . . Ashta is lost; the capital was overrun by Arminas and his forces yesterday evening. Only a few of the elders escaped with their life."

Eragon's throat clenched tightly, he felt sick to the core. It sounded too much like Alagesias history was being repeated. Repeated in a different land, with a different order, different dragons, and different riders. But if the result would be even remotely similar to Alagesias, then there was cause for concern. Dragon riders would be gone, dragons would be wiped out, and the people would suffer. And Eragon, bound by his own quest, couldn't just step into the war himself, _what kind of cruel fate is this?_

"You need to keep this to yourself; panic does no one any good." Feramus's intense voice brought Eragon out of his brooding silence; he gave his word he would keep it secret. Feramus nodded and leaned back, he seemed more relaxed.

"So, what are your plans for the day Shadeslayer?" And the light and friendly tone was back once more.

"I'm not sure I'll get anything done until I get myself someone to translate for me." Was Eragon's honest reply. Feramus tilted his head at him.

"That can easily be arranged." And with that Feramus rose from the table and gave him a little smile before he briskly walked off. After a few moments' hesitation, Eragon followed him. He found him bent over the table next to theirs, talking to someone.

"Yes? Well then, good." Feramus straightened up, saw Eragon and flashed him a smile.

"I've told Kenna here of what you need, she will be your translator. Now, I suspect you will be on your way, as I too must. Until another time Shadeslayer." He said and just as quickly departed, _are all elves here so urgent?_

The girl who he had been talking to rose from the wooden bench and presented herself, or _tried _to present herself. In midsentence she seemingly lost the use of her voice. Her eyes swept over his torso, down to his boots, then up again to his face, then all the way down again, seemingly on their own accord. He seemed to have a similar effect on the friends at her table, a bright blush spread across the girls face.

"I . . . uh, I'm Kenna . . . daughter of eh, Cynnith."

Even to clueless Eragon it was embarrassing, but he managed a decent composure and said. "Pleased to meet you, Kenna daughter of Cynnith. I am Eragon, son of Brom. And I'm very glad you are willing to help me."

The girl seemed to just want to crawl away and hide, but she managed a weak smile, Eragon found himself sympathizing with her. In a way she reminded him of what a fool he had used to be around Arya,

"I'm sorry, I . . I'm sure Feramus could get you someone else-"Before she could finish her sentence Eragon cut her off with a warm smile.

"No, don't apologize, you've done nothing wrong. We'll get going once you've finished your meal."

"Oh! That's quite all right, I'm done." She said, nervously rubbing her hands together. Eragon took the hint; she wanted to get away from her friends, away from the embarrassment. He dipped his head and she stepped in with him as he walked out of the hall, attracting quite a few looks and murmurs.

"So . . . you're the Shadeslayer, heard a few things about you." She said once they had gotten clear off the hall, her voice still carried a hint of the earlier nervousness. Eragon gave her a quick look. She was just a few inches shorter than him, deep brown hair fell to the lower back of an athletic body, and pale blue eyes under dark but thin brows looked anywhere save for him.

"And what have you heard?" He asked, honestly curious.

"That you're a dangerous . . . person." She said and her eyes squinted at him, she had carefully maneuvered around his racial oddities. Eragon nodded carefully to her statement, he couldn't really argue with that.

The two of them moved through the Keep's stone corridors in silence for a few minutes, his two elven bodyguards close behind them.

When they reached the ground level of the fortress, there was an incredibly loud and thunderous trumpet sound that made them halt. It reverberated against the walls and flew past them, leaving Eragon's acute ears ringing. He was alarmed, that sounded more like a warning trumpet than a ceremonial one to him.

"What was that?" He asked warily, his quiet suspicion was however confirmed by Kenna's fear stricken face. He began walking at a brisk pace. Kenna stood frozen for only a moment, and then she caught up with him in quick strides.

"They're coming! They're coming _here!" _Her voice was intense and laden thick with fear. He told her to calm herself; she only stared at him, as if he was the city's only hope.

"You have to help us! Please, sir Eragon, we need you!"

Eragon turned his head slightly and told his current guards to alarm Blodghärm and the others, and to meet up outside the keep, but he didn't answer Kenna. The halls weren't quiet anymore; servant boys and girls scurried past them in frantic sprints, armored knights moved ahead with purposeful steps, and a few riders ran past them while strapping weapons to their thighs. They all shared one thing in common, their eyes held complete and absolute terror of what was coming. It bothered him. He tried to contact Saphira, and received a lazy bash of her thoughts.

Then they were past the two large double doors and out in the dim morning sun, a chilly breeze ruffled his hair, but the sky was cloud free and beautiful. Some people were screaming out orders, others were screaming out of terror. Men scooted past them on all sides, and Blodghärm and the others were sprinting up the cobble covered streets toward them. Everywhere people closed their doors, they prayed to their gods, and held their families. A few riders were mounting their dragons, but Eragon didn't see any of the things around him.

He had his eyes firmly set on the sky, where seven colorful specks hung in the air, growing larger and larger by each flap of their mighty wings.

_Saphira!? _He shouted mentally, and forcefully poked her mind. She grumbled and asked somewhat disoriented. _What? Eragon? What is it?_ The worry in her stood out clearly through their bond.

_Saphira, we might be in some trouble again here._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Replies to reviewers:**

**Stapet: Hey pal, no, I have never actually read the series. Although I've watched some parts of the TV-series.**

**Menaphite: Sorry about the cliffie, but the chapter had to end somewhere, and that was a convenient place to do it :/ Other towns and cities in Aesdynia will definitely be different than Lakten. I've written down some names and lore on some of the places/cities Eragon will be seeing during the story.**

**As for the question about the forsworn/army of riders. This is more complex than the story has already let on, and you won't find the answer until chapter 4/5.**

**XXX1994: I'm glad you like my elves so far, but i'm sorry if I made you believe the elves of Aesdynia are weaker than any other elf from Alagesia. That was not my intention. After the "Du Fyrn Skulblaka", the elves and dragons of Alagesia came together and made the pact that unified their races. And every known elf still have the effects of that pact to date, that's why they are called elves. If an elf without the pact existed, he would not be inhumanly strong and fast or immortal. Alas, he'd just be an ordinary human.**

**Thank you for the reviews guys, now read on!**

The battle at Lakten

"What are you waiting for!? Help them!" Kenna shouted desperately, her hands gesticulated wildly at the few dragons who were taking off the ground, they were few in numbers. Eragon could see Feramus and Kelmor, who was in heavy armor. The yellow dragon and rider from the beach the previous day were mounting up. The muddied circular patch of torn up dirt was constantly occupied by dragons and riders about to reach for the skies. Valeria and her sparklingly purple dragon was a bit to the north west and approaching from the dragon hold with a few other dragons with no riders or saddles; Saphira was a few leagues behind them, but quickly gaining.

_We won't be joining them in the air? _Saphira's voice surged though their bond. Eragon felt like his own answer choked him, even though he didn't open his mouth.

_. . . No, how could we, which side would we take? We don't know . . . How are we supposed to figure out which side is the most righteous one? One of the reasons we _left _Alagesia was because I didn't trust anyone with half the power I have, not even me. We have to stand aside, this is not our battle._

"Please, sir. Please . . . just help us . . ." Kenna's incessant voice grinded against his conscience, she was close to tears now. She made it very difficult for him to keep a cool and levelheaded mind of the situation; he supposed he was weak for a damsel in distress.

Blodghärm stepped forward and gave Valeria a mildly irritated glance before he made to speak; but Eragon beat him to it.

"I know Blodghärm," he paused for a moment, and then he said to Kenna: "What would you have me do? I don't know either of the sides fighting here; I can't just pick a side based on past assumptions."

He could just as well have beaten her, she became instantly quiet. It upset him, he was crushing a young girls hope, he wanted to apologize, and more than anything he wanted to ride Saphira into the dawn and tear something apart. Instead he asked her softly:

"Why are there so few . . ? I saw many more inside . . ." He was referring to the very few dragons and riders in the air, who was now steadily advancing toward the enemy.

"Most of us here are only apprentices; those are the only fully trained riders." Her voice wasn't aggressive, but quiet, hurt.

_Then they have very few teachers, _Saphira supplied him. _Aye, no wonder they struggle to train all of those younger riders. _

Eragon felt helpless as the first dragons met high up in the air roughly above the city's wooden gates. The roars and screeches the large creatures let out terrified the citizens below even more, and panic filled screams tore through the air. Kenna turned around, whether it was to hide her tears, or to stop watching, he didn't know. But Eragon and the other spell casters could not tear their gazes away from the sky.

The hostile riders and dragons looked to be young, he could tell by the small forms their dragons had. They were about the same size as Saphira, and far too young to be in a battle in the first place. They used magic recklessly, without thought, they were either poorly schooled or they believed themselves invincible. Powerful magic was used when simpler and less costly spells would have sufficed, the youngsters laughed as they tossed magic around themselves in shows of sport. To his growing suspicion he saw the defenders struggle with them. The hostile riders were completely devastating the old and more experienced ones.

Then the rider less dragons from the dragon hold joined the fray with Feramus in the lead. At first the enemy was swarmed by them, but then the magic began. And dragons was thrown through the air, some had their wings ripped off clean, their bulks smashed, others seemed to just die with no apparent reason what so ever. Eragon could now tell which side was winning. He reached out with his tendrils and tried to investigate the riders by prodding at their minds without being discovered, it proved to be an easy task. The riders were so caught up in their battle they bothered with little else. His suspicion was confirmed when the mourning souls of dragons shouted out at his consciousness.

He informed Saphira and Blodghärm of his discovery. Saphira reacted by picking up speed, the curses and oaths she shouted out were furious and she threatened to drown him in her bloodlust. He took some deep breaths to steady himself, using the techniques Oromis had taught him. There was a slight possibility that the dragon hearts were helping the attackers out of free will, but he had seen their minds, they were hurting, they were shells of themselves. He could feel himself grow angrier still, fueled further on by the absolute rage of Saphira and the Eldunari's he himself carried.

He had spent an entire war trying to free the eldunari's enslaved by the twisted Galbatorix, now once again dragon souls were being abused and tormented, even right in front of him. It sickened him. Eragon blinked when Blodghärm asked:

"What do you propose, Kingkiller?"

The question caught him off guard for some reason, but of course they had to act. This couldn't stand, Oromis would never have let this happen and do nothing. Glaedr stirred at his thought.

"Go past the gate; try positioning yourself as directly below the battle as possible." Eragon told him, and Blodghärm nodded dutifully before he and the others nimbly sprinted off. Kenna whipped around again as the spell casters hastily disappeared, her face was pale, and her eyes were red and blotchy.

"You . . . you'll help, really?"

"Really." He said, and then he walked briskly to meet Saphira. Eragon created a link between himself and Blodghärm; the elves were running at a frighteningly speed though the city. He left the connection as a distant buzzing sound, and rejoiced as his dragon landed beside him and splattered foul-smelling mud over his tunic. He was mounted and strapped to her saddle in record time, and she took off the same instant he was done.

The roaring and blazing chaos ahead of them was difficult not to behold. It was a powerful image, a dozen of different dragons in varying colors and sizes where having it at each other. Magic flared up every now and then from a glowing palm, and he could almost visibly _see _the tenuous mental battles that no doubt was taking place in between it all. But it was obvious to him that his allies were hard pressed, they fought heroically and coherently. And still they were losing, simply because the other riders had a tremendous power advantage.

He had counted seven among the hostile riders earlier, and he was certain none of them had fallen. Among the others he counted only five; a sixth dragon was spiraling down towards the ground with a crumpled and disfigured rider in the saddle. The sight left him with a terrible lump in his throat. _We need to draw their attention, Saphira, before more of them get injured or killed. _

She growled and Eragon could feel the mighty vibrations course though her body, a puff of smoke flared out of her mouth. Then Blodghärm's unnatural and feral mind seeped through their connection. _We are soon below the fight, Shadeslayer. We will lend you our aid when needed, try and remain close to us. _

Eragon gave him a mental nod; he and Saphira used a short moment to spectate the battle. Some of the dragons were locked together and was raking and biting each other with unrelenting fury, though they always managed to disentangle before they hit the ground. A few of the enemies simply stood still in the air and flung spells in every direction, they relied heavily on their dragon hearts. The other riders tried to shy away from them and to shield themselves with their own magic; it was a meager protection at best.

_Those two are distracted. _Saphira's voice echoed in his mind, and he turned his head against the dragon and rider which Saphira already was diving at. They were busy infiltrating someone's mind, he could tell from the prominent look of focus on the young man's face. Eragon felt slightly bad about himself when they rammed into their unsuspecting side. Slightly.

Saphira roared and her massive jaws closed down around the other dragons armor plated neck. The armored dragon growled in response and tried to writhe away from Saphira's iron grip, it was futile. _I have her, what should I do?_

But the rider was mumbling a spell and Eragon's reply drowned in panic. He did the first thing that came over him. He cut the other rider's saddle straps with a spell, and tossed him out of the saddle with another one. The man let out a horror filled cry as he plummeted down towards ground, his dragon began thrashing and roaring worse than ever. Saphira let her go, but she would not be able to reach her rider in time. And it was clear to Eragon that the man was too busy screaming to form any spells. _Did I just . . . kill that man?_

_Shadeslayer, your allies require your aid._ Blodghärm told him, and a mental picture seen from the ground flashed before his eyes. A large purple dragon wrapped in steel armor with the rider, Valeria in a heavy saddle. They were entangled in a fight with two other riders and dragons, and fared badly.

_Saphira, we need to hurry. _He told her, she was already turning her head in search for them. It was much more difficult to navigate when he was _partaking_ in the battle, Eragon discovered quickly. Everywhere around him, he could hear dragons roar, and people cast spells, -sometimes they flew past them uncomfortably close - and there was the occasional clash of swords. But no one seemed to pay any real attention to them yet. Eragon then spotted three large figures several hundred feet below them, it couldn't be anyone else.

Saphira folded her wings and curled her body into a full-fledged dive through the air, Eragon's eyes watered. The distance was being devoured in no time, and Eragon braced himself. He didn't even keep his eyes open, he knew what Saphira intended to do and he trusted her. But he was still shell-shocked when they impacted. He clung to Saphira's large neck spike; the only thing that kept him from tumbling into a free fall was the saddle-strappings.

Then his world became relatively steady again, and he opened his eyes. A dragon roared plaintively below them, a sound filled with pain, anguish and mourning. He looked and understood why. The dragon they had smashed into with crushing speed seemed to have broken a wing, and the rider in the saddle was unmoving. His chest pierced by a spike that belonged to his own dragon, the sight was awful and stirred many unwelcome feelings in him. But he managed to tear his gaze away, as did Saphira.

Saphira spread her wings and glided more to the left, where Valeria and her dragon were fighting a coppery red dragon and rider, they also equipped armor. Eragon quickly began looking for weaknesses in the rider's wards and shields. Saphira placed herself in the air above the ruckus and engulfed the orange rider in blue hot flames - while carefully avoiding Valeria and her dragon. - Eragon quickly discovered that none of the twelve death words worked, and that the rider seemed to have strong wards with no evident weaknesses that he could easily take advantage of. The purple dragon roared, and Eragon looked in time to see dark sizzling blood cascade through the crumpled cracks of the big dragon's plated armor. They needed help, now.

_Try to drag them off of them! _Eragon suggested hastily, Saphira responded with a low affirmative humming. He could only imagine how incredibly difficult it had to be to navigate in the air around two angry, roaring dragons, and even worse was it to try and break them up. But Saphira somehow made it look easy. Eragon knew that every single twitch her tail made was important, and that the slightest bend in the air that she failed to notice could throw her off balance, he still had problems completely understanding how marvelously good she was at flying.

She navigated herself closer, and simply hooked her front paws around the hostile dragon's torso, and then unleashed her full wingspan. It hurt her wings; he felt her pain course though him. But she ignored it as best she could. The dragon beneath Saphira snarled as he was yanked off of his prey, he tried wriggling out of her grip and bite her front legs. Saphira countered him by flipping him around in the air and forcefully pushed him away and down towards the ground, who was now a mere two hundred feet below.

Saphira then began rising up again, the ember dragon beneath them didn't really have a chance. He desperately turned around in the air, glided, flapped his wings in an attempt at stopping the momentum Saphira had given him, then he inelegantly tumbled into the ground with a thunderous crash. _Subdue them, _Eragon told Blodghärm through their connection. _Warn us if they become a problem. _Blodghärm gave him a mental nod.

Then Eragon directed his attention back to the fight in the skies. Valeria and her injured dragon were landing close by the gate, where a few of his spell casters stood ready to assist her. Beyond that Eragon noticed little more than that they had succeeded in one thing: Achieving the enemy's attention. One bright green dragon was gliding towards them; the rider on top wore plain chain mail and an odd looking square helmet. Behind them Eragon could spot two other riders and dragons that were also in pursuit. Saphira didn't stop, she continued to ascent up through the bitter air, forcing the others to follow her.

Eragon understood what she was attempting, and he began breathing slowly, like he did when he meditated. He would have told her that this trick probably would never work, but their opponents were young. Their ignorance of the world might be their downfall. The winds up this high were strong and bone chilling, but Saphira did not let up, and neither did her followers. Eragon took on last deep breath, and told Saphira she had to start diving now. She stopped flapping her wings, whipped her body around in the air and dived.

She met the plant colored dragon in her dive. If Eragon could describe the dragon's look, he would have said dazed. That would be the lack of air. Unprepared as he was, Saphira crashed into him and quickly got her large jaw around the other dragon's wing. She hesitated.

An explosion of painfully sharp light erupted, and Eragon was jerked around in the saddle like a ragdoll. Saphira lost her grip on the green dragon and tumbled through the air. For a short moment Eragon could only cling to Saphira for dear life. Then Saphira managed to establish control again, and another dragon came crashing into them from beneath. Eragon was once again almost jarred out of the saddle; his neck got itself an extreme case of whip lash.

Saphira's snarl of mixed fury and pain drove him out of his confused state. She was snarling and biting with a dragon the color of dried mud. Whatever spell that had been thrown at them earlier had to have been a powerful one, because the wards at Saphira's bulk were only partially protecting her from physical injuries. Too dark and thick blood to be human seeped from her chest.

Saphira growled in defiance and snapped at the other dragon. He attempted to evade her, but his armor slowed him down and Saphira locked her teeth around his right paw. She bit down and pulled at the limb forcefully, the bone snapped with a horrible crunching sound. What was worse still was the pain filled howl the dragon and rider alike let out. Saphira wriggled and escaped the plaintive howls.

Almost immediately after disentangling with them they were attacked with a psychic sledgehammer. The blow rattled Eragon's skull to the core, but after long hours of practice with Oromis, his and Saphira's shields were up in a few instants. And not a moment too soon either, a volley of mental arrows designed to pierce through their walls cascaded against them like heavy rain. The attacker was not particularly gifted in the art of mind battling, but he had the huge advantage of the opening strike. Eragon strengthened their shields and prepared to counter attack their opponents mind. He took one look around in the air, making sure their physical bodies were out of danger, and then they attacked together.

His and Saphira's combined mental force was a batting ram of epic proportions, their opponent either had not expected the sudden attack, or he was lousy at defending his own mind. His walls fell to dust. His partner tried to repair the damage, but he and Saphira was already inside his mind. With a gentle whisper, Eragon forced the rider into a deep slumber he would have a hard time waking from in the immediate future.

_Why didn't they work together? _Saphira asked him curiously. Eragon didn't know, for that matter why didn't they use their eldunari? His only guess was that the dragon hearts had been exhausted over the battle. He could see the dragon fleeing away, its rider slumped in the saddle.

_Shadeslayer! We require your aid! _Blodghärm's voice suddenly broke though the surface of Eragon's mind; he had subconsciously ignored their connection while busy. He cursed his foolishness and replied hurriedly:

_We're coming Blodghärm! _

Eragon hadn't even finished the thought before Saphira began to dive. She folded her wings and coursed through the air like a spear, his eyes watered and the roaring wind made him hallway deaf for the time being. Even so he could still recognize dragons fighting each other on the ground and close to the city gate, and a few others a bit further away. Smaller shapes were spread out here and there; he thought he could see a conflict going on.

Saphira landed on the cobblestone road that led into the city, a loud crack sounded and Eragon suspected she had shattered a stone or two on impact. Quick and nimble as a feline, Eragon hopped out of the saddle, landed in a tumble and stopped in a crouched position. His eyes scoured the field, it was a complete mess.

Blodghärm and the other spell casters worked together with a few of the dragon riders defending Lakten. They had formed a loose line and fought against the hostile riders with their minds, the man Eragon had sent flying out of his saddle was there, he stood beside his dragon with eyes closed in concentration. Another one who he thought he recognized as rider of the copper red dragon who Saphira had sent sprawling into the ground earlier stood a bit to the side, in a similar pose. Behind them again stood the rider of the green dragon, his helmet now gone and he was bent over the grey, brownish dragon that had had his front leg shattered by Saphira.

Further to the side and a couple of dozen paces away from the mental battle, there were four dragons battling each other. Saphira growled and took off at a dead sprint towards the dragons to lend her aid. She was intercepted by the dragon with the broken leg, which had now been healed. Their roars and clashing and biting made it nearly impossible to hear anything, but body movement was a language of its own. And when the green rider saw him, his body language clearly screamed panic. He waved at his fellow riders and screamed an order of some sort.

The hostile riders must have tried to conserve some of the energy they had left in their dragon hearts. By attacking with their minds instead of a full out magical pounding they would save some of their breath, so to speak. But when Eragon had been spotted it seemed like they had abandoned that plan for some reason. He knew they would try something drastic to kill of his allies and friends fast. He couldn't let that happen.

Eragon began running.

So did the copper red dragon rider, and a female elf he had not seen earlier. A third rider appeared from behind them, the one who had been tossed out of his dragon's saddle. He mouthed a few quick words and held out his glowing palm as his magic was unleashed.

Eragon felt cold dread flow up his spine as everyone in his party who had been busy fighting off the eldunari suddenly stopped and became rigid. They didn't seem to be able to move a muscle. Everyone in the vicinity had just been thrown into a full body lockdown, everyone but him and the snarling dragons. Stupid! Reckless and foolish magic, with no finesse or skill whatsoever. Power had made these young riders arrogant. He had to distract the spell caster, that way his allies would be freed from the magic.

But then one of the two riders sped out past the other in a sprint; he ran over the lush grass towards the first frozen target, heaved his sword and swung it – right into Brisingr's crossguard. The rider let out a surprised "hffmp!" as he ran into Eragon, who stood his ground and flicked Brisingr in a neat motion that sent the sword out of the rider's grasp. Eragon swept his leg beneath him, and the rider went down.

Eragon did not take advantage of the weakened rider; instead he turned to intercept the second one. There turned out to be no need to garner her attention, she was already swinging her slim sword at him. Eragon sidestepped and brought Brisingr up to meet the challenger. Their blows were quick and ferocious; every now and then a strike connected so hard that sparks ignited. But he knew that the rider he had first disarmed would be up and about soon, and he couldn't leave his friends vulnerable.

Eragon struck at her from two different angles in quick recession, feinted a move to the right and instead stepped back. He turned and saw that the first rider had risen with his sword in hand, Eragon swung Brisingr in a broad cleave, the blow connected solidly. The rider had tried to parry the blow, but he had misjudged the force behind it. Brisingr swapped aside the sword and continued into the man's armor. It left him in a pile on the ground, but he was otherwise fine and still able to resist him.

He knew that the elf rider would attempt to backstab him right about now. He had gotten a slight understanding of her during their short exchange of blows, and when an opportunity showed, she didn't pass it up. A slight itch on his right palm warned him of the sudden danger. He tumbled into a roll, and could practically feel the blade thrum over his head. He still had Brisingr in hand, and when he rose to his feet he brought it up in a swift motion. The elf rider dodged it nimbly, but barely.

A sharp voice in front of him sounded, the green rider approached him with sword in hand, his left hand of all things. He could only guess what had been said, but he would have bet it had been something like: "Forget the others for now, kill him first." Because suddenly he was the target of all three riders, the fourth one was standing alone, still powering the spell that kept his allies stock still.

Eragon's jaw tightened, his odds were darkening. Still, he planted his feet firmly and gripped Brisingr tighter. He let his uncertainty and fear be washed away, and everything that was left was an unwavering will to protect his friends. A few images of Saphira lacerating her enemies entered his mind, and a fierce grin spread across his face.

His three contestants all attacked from different angles, a tactic commonly used to press someone to reel. It always works, which is why it came to them as an enormous surprise when Eragon did the exact opposite of what a person would normally do. He met them head on.

"Brisingr!" He roared and incandescent, sapphire blue flames engulfed his sword. The sheer light blinded them, it would have blinded him too, but he was prepared. And thus three fear inspiring riders were reduced to disoriented grunts, barely able to see past their own hands. Eragon grinned as he slapped one blade aside and parried a stray blow from the green rider. Eragon twirled and slapped the flat of the blade hard into the head of the green rider. His wards would normally have stopped any weapon from making contact, but Brisingr had been designed to slip past such wards. The man slumped to the ground.

He turned again and casually parried a few more strokes from the rider of the copper red dragon. The female tried to circle him and go for his hind, but Eragon had foreseen it, he twirled around and caught her blade on his cross guard. He tripped her over his right leg and shoved, she smacked into the ground. Eragon extinguished the flames surrounding Brisingr and rested the tip just an inch over her throat. The copper red rider instantly dropped his weapon and went to his knees and began begging, tears ran down his face freely. The elf was breathing hard, but her eyes stared at him blankly.

Eragon was about to ask her to tell her friend to stop the magic, but he knew the answer. Besides, every magician needs focus to perform magic, If that man was as inexperienced as he thought, then maybe. . . he sent a minor wave of mental force at the man, the equivalent of a physical slap. The man abruptly let go of the spell and shut open his eyes.

Eragon almost snorted. That had been enough to distract him? He should have done so earlier; still, he had wasted terrible amounts of energy. Maybe it wasn't _too _bad the man had continued for so long then.

Eragon turned halfway, not enough to lose his view of the other rider beneath him, but enough to get a look at his friends. A few were on their knees, breathing hard. Most of his companions walked closer to him, wary of the sudden change on the battlefield. Some of the riders ran for their dragons, probably to heal them.

For a moment, there was stillness; even the dragons had stopped fighting once the spell had been stopped. Eragon knew this golden moment would be gone in another instant, so he used it.

"I have one of your riders, let there be no more bloodshed this night. You have lost, surrender your weapons and I give you my word, be our captives and you will not come to further harm."

There was a short, perhaps surprised silence.

"Do you agree with my terms?" Eragon asked again. Then, from beneath him the she elf muttered: "I do."

Eragon raised a surprised brow, but his smile was genuine and warm as he hoisted her back on her feet. "I'm glad" he told her.

"Anyone else? Eragon asked in to the air, as a young, sandy, brown dragon limped over to the elf and he too gave his word, before nuzzling his rider.

The rider of the ember colored dragon nodded and gave him his word shakily, his dragon did too. The green rider was now on his knees, he wore an angry expression on his face. He barked several things in that dreadful tongue, at least it was dreadful when it came from him. Eragon estimated there to be several dozen curses in his ravening sentences, the man nearly foamed.

But he was ignored, the last man came over and he too threw his weapon at Eragon's feet before agreeing. Eragon then took four steps towards the green rider, before asking. "Are you sure you will not lay down your weapon?"

"I'll stab you in the back first chance I get!" The man's use of the ancient language was . . . understandable. His reply was expected, but still saddening. Eragon sent mental spikes into the man's head, and nearly broke though on the first try. The blow to the head had disoriented the man badly, and his stolen hearts had to be near exhausted, maybe he had given them to the spell slinger. It made his job relatively simple, he had broken the man's defenses in a matter of moments and then he conjured him into a false sleep.

The rider blinked oddly, and fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. _Where is his dragon? _Not long after the question left his mind, was it answered as he looked though Saphira's events of the fight. She and the grass colored dragon had tackled each other, both had given wounds. But Saphira had at one point managed to squeeze off the others air canals, the green dragon had been left unconscious after a good long while of resisting Saphira.

_Well done. _He told her admiringly, she purred and walked up to him, she had a limp on her right hind leg. But she concealed it as best she could, very typical Saphira. He made to heal her, but she denied him. _There are others more hurt than me; the gashes I earned earlier in the air were only superficial._

_Superficial? Your blood poured out like a fountain!_

_Even a minor wound to you is an ocean of blood to an ant, Eragon. Leave me be._

And he knew she wouldn't take his help, not for now. And a small part of him was angry at her for it, for showing the logic down his throat, but she was still right. Several more people walked up behind him, he turned and the faces of his friends and companions stared at him. It struck him that they might be expecting some kind of orders from him.

"Uhh, Blodghärm, first things first. Search our new guests. We can arrange their vows' more properly later, right now healing the wounded is more important."

Blodghärm nodded briskly and conveyed his orders to the others, Eragon added with his mind, in case he had not made himself clear: _Remember their eldunari, search for them thoroughly. _At which Blodghärm replied with a grim mental nod.

His orders were carried out quickly, and the early morning had by now turned into a hot and burning afternoon. As the tension in the air lessened by each breath, soon laughter and tales of the battle filled the silence. All of the riders who had defended the city seemed jubilant and happy beyond belief. It was, Eragon realized, because they had not expected to survive the day, much less win the battle.

Through all the chatter Eragon got to know that besides the rider who had been impaled on his own dragon and the dragon and rider who had escaped from him. There had been one more, who also escaped when attacked by three different riders at the same time. The dragon with the broken wing had been killed on the ground by Kelmor.

Other than that he got to hear that all the dragons protecting the city had tried to intervene when the magic that had frozen everyone had been unleashed, but they had been stopped by the other dragons. Eragon had failed to notice any of that during the fight.

By the time most of the more serious injuries had been healed, a few men on horseback trotted out of the city wooden gate. Their steeds were armored, as was the riders on top, they carried themselves with a pride Eragon really didn't think befit them.

He let Feramus deal with them; he didn't want to step in to the political world just then. Someone said something, something in that language.

Eragon turned, puzzled. The captives were sitting on the bare grassland, they were not bound or being watched, they had given their word, which was their confinement for now. The copper red dragon rider spoke again, this time in the ancient language:

"How did you do it? It was not with any hearts. That much I can tell." His dragon gave a rumble in agreement.

"How did i do what?" Eragon asked, wary now. He had mentioned hearts, plural. The female rider snorted. Eragon gave her a look. Then he noticed something he hadn't seen earlier. She was young. Even by human standards. Her tear shaped face carried a slight silver glow that seemed to thrum with an energy that almost seeped out of her skin. She was astonishingly beautiful.

How young was these people? Far too young to be carrying out battles in wars they didn't even understand properly. He shook his head sadly, that seemed to make the she elf angry.

"What? Did you expect more from a young rider such as myself!?" She spat out venomously.

"Rider? You don't deserve that title, none of you do. You proved that today."

"You think yourself better than me? I have barely lived for twenty years, how many centuries do you have on me? Just you wait, I'll be better than you ever was." She seethed and snapped her head away from him.

Laughter filled the air, the beautiful, chirping laughter that only elves seemed to be able to produce. He hadn't noticed them behind him, but now he couldn't help to grin himself. The elf turned again, "It's true!" she shouted. At which the elves only laughed harder. Eragon had to give in to it as well. Then a thought seemed to strike her.

"Wait, how old . . .?" Her question trailed off, her brow creased as she gave Saphira a look.

Still chuckling a bit, Eragon turned and mounted Saphira. Before she took off however, he told her:

"Younger than you." The elves howled ever louder.


	4. Chapter 4

**A****/N Hello folks, my standard update at Friday once again reaches the deadline, I'm quite proud. Written over twenty thousand words already, and that's just after **_**one **_**month, and all your continuing support is just awesome. **

**Replies to reviews:**

**Menaphite: Once again, thank you for pointing out some of my mistakes. Sorry I didn't respond to you, it must have slipped my mind, it's good you set me right.**

**Stapet: What you're saying about the Eldunari is absolutely true, and i'm glad you've caught onto that. The answer will come in one of my upcoming chapters.**

**XXX1994: Some of the background story of the riders will start to unfurl in the next chapter, stay put! And i'm glad you find my action scenes satisfying.**

**mr8099: I agree m8, people make characters faint at the end of their chapters wayyyy too much, although its sometimes a good ending. As for your question, that's a difficult one, and i couldn't answer yes or no. But i know for a fact that elves were mortal before the pact, and it was stated by either Oromis or Brom (can't remember which) that elves were not so different from humans once. That's what i know.**

A Rider's Duty

By the time he was summoned by Lord Darion, it was only a few meager hours away from midnight. He doubted that was protocol procedure, but given the situation it was reasonable. He didn't mind, he hated politics. He wanted to get the meeting out of his schedule as quickly as possible, so tonight was fine by him.

Kenna came to his quarters and knocked on his door, he knew it was Kenna because he recognized her mind.

"Let her in, Orodreth." He said out aloud, the door creaked open and Kenna walked in. She wore yellow cotton pants and a clean white button up shirt that ended at her elbows, her brown hair fell free down her back. Earlier he would have noticed that she was wearing men's clothes. But as it was, now it hardly even registered. He reminded himself that the girl was sensitive and insecure.

"Good evening, you look very beautiful." He told her solemnly, he couldn't lie in the ancient language anyways. Her eyes shone.

"Thank you, sir, how are you?"

"I'm good, considering." He replied, she nodded and glanced over his room.

"This is . . . very humble." She told him quietly.

"Yes, I hope you didn't expect a palace?" He mocked. Her face suddenly fell, and she stuttered to apologize.

"No, no, no, you're doing fine. I was joking." He told her smilingly. He looked away so she could regain her composure; he asked Orodreth when the others would arrive. His reply was, "any moment now, Shadeslayer."

Eragon nodded at this and straightened out his new deerskin jacket and pants. He had discarded the clothes he had worn during the battle, they were muddied and blood stained (Saphira's blood.) And since he hadn't brought clothes with him from his drawer on the Talita, he had been forced to acquire some new ones. The shopkeeper had told him the leather was of good quality, and he had to agree. He sensed his friends then, climbing up the stairs.

"Are you ready to translate, Kenna?" He asked her, she gave him a weak smile and nodded. "Good, let's go."

And with that Eragon strode out the door and walked down the hallway, with Kenna and his bodyguard at his heels. As they walked past all the compartments, Eragon shared a meaningful glance with Kenna.  
After the battle, two of the prisoners had each been given their own quarter in the keep, which was mostly because Eragon had been set against throwing them all behind bars. After some conviction from him two of them had given him their word that they would not escape or leave their room. The elf and the green rider had not been inclined to give any such promises, they _were _behind bars. And their dragons were gagged and chained. But he knew that even though they were relieved of their eldunari, they would escape, given enough time.

Blodghärm and the others met them at the end of the corridor, he greeted them by dipping his head, and then they fell into formation around him and Kenna.

From there it was a short walk to Lord Darius's court; soon they halted outside a big, open double door. Two guards, clad in the same colorful armament as the two guarding the keep outside gave them permission to enter.

_Don't do anything stupid little one. _Saphira's patronizing voice sounded in his head.

_Of course not. _He told her, at which she snorted. _An impractical place to keep a court anyways, no place for a dragon to fit. _She grumbled. He agreed, it annoyed him more than he liked.

The court was large and only lit by half a dozen chandeliers, hanging on metal chains. There were no windows, and the air was strangling. The people inside were evidently upper class people, their clothes were too colorful, their stance too arrogant, and their bellies to chubby. The nobles stood to either the right or the left side of the room, leaving the carpeted walkway in the center of the court barren. The people dropped into a whispering silence once they entered, Eragon had trouble breathing through all the heavy perfume that was in the air, it was by far much worse than what he had ever experienced in Alagesia. This was an assault on his keen nose, but he ignored it as best as he could, the elves behind him did the same.

A small privileged group stood at the top right corner of the room. Eragon recognized the five figures as the riders who had defended the city. They all eyed him, some with fascination and admiration, and others with uncertainty and doubt. Feramus raised a chalice towards him in greeting, before he raised the cup to his lips.

At the far edge of the room stood a large, decorated armchair with a soft-looking pillow, Eragon assumed the man in it could only be Lord Darius. A few people stood around him, two was seated on each side in lesser chairs. A short old man with thick glasses sat hunched over a wooden desk which was sprayed with parchments, he held a quill dipped in ink in his right hand. He was evidently ready to note down everything that was said.

Eragon walked half a step behind Kenna, and stopped when she did. For a short moment he was unsure whether they would address him first or the other way around, but no one said anything. He stepped forth and bowed, it occurred to him that it was an Alagesian custom, and they might have no relations to the gesture at all. If that was the case, then maybe they found it amusing. Then he straightened up and said with as loud and clear voice as he could manage:

"Greetings, Lord Darius, I am Eragon Bromsson of Alagesia. And the friends with me here are elves of The Guarding Forest, they are my companions."

As Kenna translated, the old man in the back began to scribble down her words. Eragon watched the Lord; the man was of average height and had a normal complexion, neither attractive nor unappealing. His brown hair was beginning to turn grey, as was his beard. However, he broke out a smile after Kenna's reciting, a genuine friendliness that reached his eyes.

He spoke then, his voice shallower than Eragon had expected, and Kenna told him: "Well met to my court, Eragon Bromsson and his companions. Your reputation surpasses you, Shadeslayer and Kingkiller. I can't help but wonder though; do you carry any further titles or statuses?"

Eragon's first thought was: _How did he know I've killed a king? _Then he remembered. Blodghärm had called him by that Title earlier today, somebody must have heard him and gossiped. He raised an eyebrow at Kenna; and she almost visibly began to shrink in front of him. That explained it.

His reaction was to tell him nothing, but slowly, he came to realize that he was acting overly defensive. There was a reason for that too he supposed, his run in with politics in Alagesia had been less than pleasant. He had learned his lesson, keep your mouth shut and don't make hasty decisions. But this wasn't Alagesia.

_What do you think; wouldn't do any harm would it?_

_No, if anything I think withholding anything would do _more_ harm. Then they won't trust you properly. _Saphira replied.

_Aye, but how many titles do I have, I'm not even sure anymore._

_I know of your achievements, Eragon, not your titles, they're two different things. _

Eragon halfway turned to look over his shoulder, he asked in his own native tongue.

"Blodghärm, do you happen to remember . . ?" The elf gave an amused smile, and then he stepped up to Kenna's side.

"Eragon, Son to the dragon rider Brom," he began. "Once known as the last free dragon rider of Alagesia. He is a Kingkiller, the Firesword, the Bane of the Ra'zac, and the slayer of shades. He was declared Elf friend by the noble queen Islanzadí, and for a period of time he was the leader of the Varden. Furthermore he is also a full-fledged member of the dûrgrimst Ingeitum, and the Grand master of the Alagesian Dragon rider order."

The room was still, Kenna seemed to be completely lost with confusion and astonishment. The riders didn't need a mouthpiece to understand what had just been revealed. They were all reacting with bafflement and awe, save for Feramus who was choking on his wine with laughter. Eragon wasn't sure of what to think exactly, but did Blodghärm have to add that last part though?

The lord shouted a few words towards the riders; Eragon guessed they were directed at Feramus. Because the elf gulped down a few breaths of air and regained his calm, but a grin was still plastered onto his face. Then he replied back, Eragon hadn't the faintest idea at what he could be saying, but then Feramus threw a casual wave towards him and said something that clearly carried weight. The scribbling stopped for a few moments, and the lord seemed surprised. But what was Eragon ogling for, didn't he have a translator?

He sent forth a tendril of thoughts towards Kenna; the girl was busy studying the discussion. She nearly jumped when he brushed against her mind, but she opened up and let him in.

It had been a long time since he had last been in the mind of a near stranger; it was usually an embarrassing experience. In a way it was like bathing naked in a pool or a lake with the person you made contact with, you were very close to each other. But the water obscured you just enough to hide the most intimate parts of your being. The parts that contained secrets and powerful memories, the parts you guarded carefully when in a mental battle.

Which is why you shouldn't invite just anyone in to your mind, because then it would be easier for him to take those parts, or destroy them. Letting someone in to your mind was a deep extension of trust on that parts behalf.

This time he didn't feel embarrassed or self-conscious when he entered her mind. He felt at ease there, welcome might have been a good word. A slow, continuous tune was playing beautifully somewhere, and it echoed towards him. Kenna's head was filled with warm colors and soft lights, a foreign scent hung lightly in the air. Above everything, it was peaceful. He was in a pond of innocence amidst an ocean of war. But he was there for a reason, he asked her quietly; as if his voice would destroy the tranquility of her mind:

_Could you translate for me what they are saying, please?_

At first she didn't seem to grasp his question, she was still disoriented after the first contact with his mind. For a moment he wondered how he appeared to her, but then she replied:

_Oh, uh, Lord Darius was informed by Feramus that you're the Lead Rider . . . of Alagesia that is. But they don't understand how your bounded dragon seems to be so young. Right now they're discussing if you . . . might have devised an enchantment to make her stay young out of convenience._

That last part aggravated him, it reminded him of how Galbatorix had made Thorn grow more rapidly. Kenna noticed his irritation, it's nearly impossible to hide ones emotions when so close to another person's mind.

_Tell them she is as young as she appears. _He told her, and then he retreated from her mind.

She blinked, but did as she was told.

The talking ceased and Eragon became uncomfortably aware of all the eyes that were on him again. The lord said a few words, at which Kenna answered. Then his eyes went back to Eragon, Kenna translated his words.

"What is your purpose here?"

_Careful now, Eragon . . ._ Saphira's warning was unnecessary.

"We came to this shore only two days ago, we simply wanted to restock and to get some maps and advice before heading our way again. As we all know, the city was attacked this morning, and I and my friends decided to help. But the fact that we are still leaving have not changed."

He could hear the sadness that thickened Kenna's voice as she told Darius his words. Saphira soothing voice said: _Little one . . . Are you sure this is the right thing to do? _

No, he _wasn't_ sure anymore, and that scared him. He had always been sure of what to do, and why do it. Not now, not this time. Leaving Aesdynia could quite likely mean the end of an entire order of dragon riders, and once this "Arminas", had taken care of the competition there would be no one to stop him if he chose to take control over the land. The way Galbatorix had done. Eragon knew all too well what kind of horrors Aesdynia might face in the future if that was the case.

But then again, how could he be certain that Arminas was the villain here? All he knew about the rider came from sources _fighting _him. It was likely the prisoners held Arminas in a complete different light; he might be a righteous rider trying to put things right from their perspective. And who was Eragon to tell them they were wrong? He knew nothing about the character.

Which set him back to square one, how and why had this war flared up in the first place? Feramus had mentioned someone losing the lead rider title, which could well be enough reason for someone greedy enough to plot someone's death. But this was an all-out war the way he had been told, and Eragon couldn't imagine that to just be because someone hadn't been given a title. He missed the pieces to put the image together, without them he didn't know in which end to even start.

Eragon was still contemplating this when Kenna spoke in a reciting manner: "It is a shame you will not stay and help with the war effort, your help will be sorely missed. But Lord Darius says you are more than welcome to stay here in Blackstone keep for the remainder of your stay."

Eragon nodded to himself. He had expected more fuss from the Lord, but this was a positive surprise. And he could continue staying in his little room for a while.

"Thank him for his kindness for me; it does not go by unappreciated." Eragon said earnestly.

Lord Darius's eyes twinkled at this, and then he smiled broadly before saying:

"You are too modest Lead rider, without your help today there would be no telling what fate could have befallen our city. I have little else to give other than my hospitality in thanks, but I give what I can." Kenna took a short breath, and then continued in a monotone voice.

"However, it has not escaped me that you have spared the surviving riders by taking them as prisoners. I question the wisdom of this action, as these traitors are well versed in magic, and are a threat to anyone as long as they have breath to utter spells. They are now prisoners of war in our city, something I cannot abide by. Therefore they will be executed at dawn."

Eragon listened carefully to Kenna as she finished speaking on Darius's behalf. He could understand the Lord's worry; the faction of riders opposing the old order had to seem immensely strong and gifted from their point of view. The truth was more disturbing, but Darius's fear for his people was not misguided. His thoughts momentarily flickered to the green rider who was chained up down in the keep's dungeons. Eragon worded his thoughts carefully.

"Your worries are not groundless, Lord Darius. But the situation is not as severe as you might have first thought. I admit I don't know very much about the dragon riders of Aesdynia, and I don't know how the order here used to train its apprentices before the war. But the captives we have here are anything but adept magicians. I'm surprised we faced such a meager group of riders as our adversaries, some of which I still think were not fully trained riders even.

"The only reason as to why they offered such a threat In the first place was the fact that they had been given extensive help from someone above their station. You might have heard of ways to store energy in particular items, like gems and diamonds? The riders we met today carried something like that, combined together they had roughly enough energy to deepfreeze a small lake."

Eragon finished. He was treading on thin ice here, talking so lightly of the Eldunari. But if Darius were not convinced the riders were of no threat anymore he would execute them. And Eragon felt obliged to help them, no one else would. He knew better than most how somebody could end up on the wrong side, his brother was Murtagh after all. And besides that, the riders here needed an inkling of what they were up against, and his eyes glanced at the riders who Lord Darius was now conferring with. If they didn't get a better understanding of what they were fighting, then they would have no real chance at winning the war.

"This is disturbing news," the lord muttered darkly while absentmindedly stroking his beard. "The riders at presence here tell me that what you are saying is possible, but that they have no idea where someone could harness all that power. Do you happen to know this master rider?"

Eragon could literary not lie, so he took a moment to form his reply.

"I do. But that is not something I will share with anybody here." It took Kenna a moment longer than usual to find her words. Eragon wasn't sure how the Lord would react. But he hadn't expected him to puff out his breath with disappointment, before giving him a resigned nod. The riders looked equally downcast, but no one protested. It seemed weird to him, was it simply because he carried the lead rider title then?

He quickly thought it through and thought that it was the most reasonable explanation. In Alagesia, being the lead rider carried even more weight than a monarch. It seemed to him that it counted for something of the same here. Their reactions made more sense then, a person more mighty than a king stood in their city keep. It didn't tempt anyone to argue with him.

"Then what do you propose to do with the captives then, if not execute them?" The lord finally inquired after a lengthy silence.

"I would like to speak with them; I think I can do something for them before I leave." Eragon answered.

* * *

Eragon thanked the guard who unlocked the cell door for him; the man probably didn't know the language Eragon used. But the gesture was not lost on the man, and he said something back with a slight smile before opening the thick and heavyset door for him.

Eragon entered and found that the smell inside was surprisingly fresh, for a prison cell that is. Two figures were sitting against the wall on the opposite side of the door. Their arms were chained to the wall, their legs to the hard stamped floor. The ring that held the chains to both their legs had been mauled into the soft packed dirt. It would be easy to loosen, given a little time. He could already see they had strained to work it around by pulling at it with their legs. The guard had told him they had both denied eating the rations they had tried to feed them with.

None of the signs escaped Eragon, but the cell they were in now was only a temporary one, he had been told. Without him they would have been dead by the morning. He took inventory of the two people in front of him; the hours since he had last seen them had treated them poorly.

The green rider was dirty and nearly naked, with only a piece of torn linen as pants. He thrashed a little and spat some curses at him, none of which Eragon could identify. The elf however, sat perfectly still and didn't bother acknowledge him upon entering. She had been stripped of her armor and now only wore black cotton as clothes; her dark hair was dirty and greasy.

The door closed shut behind him and he sat down in front of them, close enough to touch their legs. The man convulsed a little before he pulled his legs back as far away from Eragon as they would go. Otherwise there was no reaction. It suited him just fine. He looked out past the single barred window in the room; a full moon was showering the inside of the cell with bright eerie light. He thought the late night sky was rather beautiful.

After a few minutes of silence, the elf finally murmured something. He didn't quite catch her words however, and he asked her if she could repeat herself.

"Come to gloat?" She said, and turned her head a bit more towards him.

"No," he stated very simply. They both regarded him, she with empty eyes, he with scornful ones. A smile started spreading across Eragon's face then.

"So, how were you planning on escaping then?" He asked with a pleasant and easy-going tone. "Personally I would have avoided the window option; those bars would be taxing to remove. Don't you agree?"

Neither replied, the elf turned her head away from him again, the man shrugged and began a staring contest with the floor.

"The door however, is a lot simpler. Those hinges just need a _little_ pressure, then-"

"Stop playing games with us." The man interrupted loudly, his eyes still locked to the hard stamped ground. Eragon quirked his brows at him.

"Maybe, if you stopped playing your game." Eragon replied, at which they both feigned innocence. He rolled his eyes.

"Neither of you took any of the food offered, because you're afraid it might poison or weaken you. And you're both trying to pull that ring out physically because you're going to need all your magical reserves later. But still, what you're trying is hopeless. How far do you think you would get, out the door, down the hallway even? You might even get out of the keep, if you're very lucky."

The human became frantic then, and strained against his chains with his hateful eyes locked on Eragon, as if he wanted to claw out his eyes. The image troubled him more than he wanted to admit, _is he insane? _The elf leaned her head against the stone wall and closed her eyes before she murmured quietly:

"It doesn't matter; you're all still going to die. They will come here eventually."

Several things surfaced in Eragon's mind right then, who exactly would be coming? He somehow doubted Arminas himself would be flying to the rescue for his young and inexperienced riders. And Eragon wondered again, how did the two of _them_ see that man? Was he some sort of justifier to them? And what about his group of followers, the army that followed him, and the scores of riders behind him that rattled everyone so badly? Eragon didn't even know what they were called.

Eragon picked up the thread from where he had tracked off and turned more towards the female, who seemed to be a lot easier to talk to. "You say _they_, and that reminds me. What do you think of Arminas?"

She opened her eyes and stared at him hard for a moment, and then she abruptly began laughing a soft singsong matter. The man joined in and began howling too, but it didn't seem like he knew what they were laughing _for_. He carried a dazed expression despite his guffaws. Eragon became worried he might have given the blow to the man's head a bit too much force.

"You . . . you really are an odd one aren't you?" She wheezed out between laughs. "What do you . . ." she began, but fell off in mid-sentence with a stunned look.

"It's . . but . . it was _true?_ They were . . wait." She shook her head slowly, and her eyes darted towards him a dawning realization. "You're not from Aesdynia?"

Eragon, who had simply observed her, replied with one word. "No."

She just shook her head in bewilderment, as if she still couldn't believe it. Even though he had answered the question in a language one cannot lie in.

"Now I'm curious, who told you that?" Eragon wanted to know.

"I, err, well, just the guards. They were overly boasting when they dragged me to this place." She answered hesitantly; she still had a bewildered look about her. But, Eragon thought to himself, _who told the guards? _News evidently spread like wildfire around here.

"And what do you think of Arminas?" He asked her again, at which she shrugged.

"I don't know, never met him personally. Seen him a few times from distance, rather tall, with long silver hair. You know, typical elf." She said, and her eyes flickered to his characteristically brown hair, he smiled at that. She looked away and shrugged again before starting over.

"Not much to tell really, he's ruthless, and isn't afraid to dirty himself in order to reach his goals. Anybody could tell you that, of course everyone here would probably just call him a renegade, an oath-breaker. I've heard he used to be a lot different before though, softer, not so mean."

Eragon nodded to himself and soaked up the information, but there was one thing that still irritated him . . .

"Is he an idiot too?" He asked casually, and enjoyed the look of surprise that flew over her face. Surprise, but not anger, so she didn't carry any warm feelings for the elf.

"An idiot, what are you talking about?" She inquired with a frown.

"You," Eragon stated matter-of-factly. "Why in the world would he send seven young, foolish riders and dragons _here_? And on the same day the capital fell too, why were you not there instead? And I can't help but notice that neither one of you seem to have pledged yourselves to Arminas's cause. You just threw down your weapons earlier today, am I right in assuming he does not bind his followers with vows then?"  
Eragon finished, and looked at the two of them. But the green rider was far gone; he was staring up at the ceiling with a ridiculous smile. Eragon would have to try and heal him from whatever it was that ailed him some other time.

"He binds some with vows, the important ones. We others just say few words to our superiors, nothing binding really. And I don't want to say anything about the other stuff." That last part she added sourly. But it made him think, _why is she talking so freely about this in the first place?_

"I wonder, you're awfully lenient, you could easily have shut me out, and I wouldn't have harmed you."

She raised her shoulders a tiny fraction. "I don't really care, we're slaughtering each other. When Arminas is through, there won't be much left of us. When it started it used to be scores of us fighting up there, you saw it today, just a handful of us. Soon there will be even less, I just . . . want _out." _She told him and sagged against the wall with a faint sigh.

Her words had a huge impact on Eragon, who was still sitting in the same position on the floor he had taken upon entering. _They're killing each other off_?Oromis, his old teacher entered his mind, and the order he had once been a part of came with him. They had _all _died; the entire order had been wiped out. Wouldn't he do anything to stop that from happening? To undo all the harm Galbatorix has done. All the people who suffered that could have lived today, Garrow, Brom, his mother . . .

But he _couldn't_ undo it. But maybe he could stop it from happening again. And, Eragon decided, if just one good family could survive and be spared the pain he had endured, then it might just be worth it. He rose to his feet and felt once again a familiar burden on his shoulders, the heavy weight of responsibility. It aggrieved him, so much pain, so much loss, would he have to go through it all again?

And he realized just then why he had been so slow to understand. He could rationalize and think and ponder all day long, but when it came right down to it, Eragon was weary of war. He was exhausted with all the sacrifices he had made, the freshest one being forced to leave Alagesia behind, leaving Arya. And now he was tired of it all, he just wanted a small measure of peace with Saphira. His emotions had gotten the better of him, something that could never happen again.

The eggs he had brought with him would have to wait a little while longer before hatching. If he died here . . . then Arya might be an option, he would have to ask. If not, then someone in Aesdynia might do it for him, and his thoughts turned to the cherry elf, Feramus. But he wouldn't die he told himself. Even though Angela's prophecy was beginning to make more sense; she said he would never return to Alagesia. Something he thought was obscure, of course he would return . . . unless he died in some far away land fighting another war. He shook the dreadful thought away before it could fester properly.

Then, with a big sigh, he nodded to himself before turning to the elf again. She was studying him openly. "Thank you, you have reminded me of my duty." He told her.

She cocked her head to one side and said: "Duty, there is no such _thing _as duty."

A slow smile spread across his face, "there _is_. And my duty is to end this war."

**A/N I hope you were not **_**too **_**bored reading this. But this was important for the plot and for the character that Eragon **_**is**_**, things will move forward pretty fast next chapter though, and we'll really start digging around on the how's and why's and where's and when's of the war, we might even get some more action. **

**I thought I would just mention to those of you who actually care that the next update will be postponed with some days. So not the usual update on Friday next week, the reason for this is simply because I'm going to work a lot this week, I am helping out some friends with their renovation project. And I'll be busy a lot, but please don't PM about your fear of me abandoning the story. It won't happen any time soon. That was all, and you folks have a good day! **


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